


I can't find my way

by Sumthinelse



Series: Shelter [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23201341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumthinelse/pseuds/Sumthinelse
Summary: When memories of the time when they were feral return for Peter and Derek, it might do more harm than good.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Chris Argent/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Lydia Martin, Lydia Martin/Jordan Parrish, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Shelter [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654153
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	1. Between dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is passing, people are adjusting to the new normal as they try to make progress.

Deaton had compared Kali’s blood from her failed breeding with his finding in Peter’s blood from six years earlier, and went to Scott with his discovery.

“I think Kali may have been cured,” he said. “In Jennifer's notes, she’d lamented being unable to ask the feral Wolves what they’d experienced, so she’d worked on something to reverse the effects. She said that Kali should have been able to revert to her former self, but that she never did. I suspect that the trauma from what happened kept her feral state as a way to avoid dealing with it.”

“Maybe Derek doesn’t want to remember either.”

“I don’t know if Boyd would want to remember the circus.”

“What do we do? How can we figure out how to bring them back, at least like Peter, without traumatizing them. Isaac’s had some adjustment issues, and he was treated fairly well, in comparison.”

“Three completely different cases and three completely different results.” Deaton was thoughtful. Peter came back with virtually no memory of his feral time, but some part of his conscious mind was there, he retained it, and it connected to Lydia.”

“What triggered his initial return?”

“I went over this with Stiles. His bond with Peter happened first, and then Chris Argent used his name, and also said the name of his sister and former Alpha. Then, while he was sleeping Stiles managed to get to Peter’s subconscious, and he spoke, like Lydia with Derek.”

“And then he bit me and Lydia.”

“I think he had the intent to turn you because of his bond with Stiles, but his bond with you-and to an extent Lydia-seemed to start bridging the gap between the man and the instinct. Lydia said she was contacted my a version of Peter when her vitals got so low that she coded in the hospital.  


“And then Duke…why did knotting Stiles bring him back the rest of the way?” Scott looked uncomfortable. “I’m just trying to look at it scientifically.”

“You’re doing fine, Scott. I wondered the same thing, but I'd never try something like that. To be honest, I’m not sure. The other case of recovery was a man who’d been recently exposed. His wife went into a stress-heat, and at some point when they were alone together, he regained his conscious mind. They were cagey about the details, but I suspect that a heat-bond-even if in Peter's case it was a false one- was enough to remind him who he was.”

“Boyd was human, until right before he got dosed,” Scott said. “It's possible he was seeing someone before being turned, but unlikely he had contact with them again afterwards. He also wouldn’t have known how to act as a proper wolf.”

“Maybe we need to try and find the human inside him.”

“What about Derek?”

“We’re making progress with the sleepwalking, but I think his predisposition to it is why he’s so susceptible to the state. We’re trying to integrate more of his old life into his sleepwalking. I hope it will eventually integrate with some form of a cure.”

~

Lydia woke up beside Jordan. Peter had spent the night at her house to give her a break. She was relieved to speak with someone who could hold a conversation, who didn’t need to be steered around, and who could cook some mean scrambled eggs. He got up before her and when she eventually stumbled out of the bedroom, he was just plating her bagel.

“Perfect timing,” he said with a smile. “I put the chipotle sauce in the eggs. Do you want bacon?” He was spreading cream cheese on the toasted bagel.

“Yes, that would be great.” She sat down and waited as he poured her coffee. “You spoil me too much.”

“I know how challenging this is, and I know you do it because you care. I just want you to feel appreciated.” Jordan kissed her forehead and set down her cup. He looked good in sweats and a t-shirt. “What do you want to do today?”

“Matinee?” she suggested. “Peter needs to go by four-thirty.”

“Really?” Jordan looked excited and she felt a pang of guilt.

“You’re a saint for being so patient,” she said.

“I think of Derek as a POW. You’re working to secure his freedom, and if you stay away too long, he can backslide, and you lose all the work you’ve put in.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can take it,” she said, softly. “I haven’t been able to get a good night’s sleep since the fire.” She picked up her form and paused. “I’m trying hard to stay patient, but it’s difficult sometimes.”

“Sometimes? I can’t imagine its ever easy.”

“There are moments when I forget,” she said. “When we’re watching television, or I’m reading, and he’s just wandering around. I’m so tired I forget who he is and it just feels so normal, like he could be anyone. Like he could be you.”

“Maybe he’s reacting to your cues?” Jordan started in on his own breakfast and Lydia took a bite of her bagel. As she finished her breakfast, she thought about what he’d said.

“Maybe you’re right.” Lydia was in Jordan’s truck on their way to the theater. "He might be reacting to my cues." They watched an indie film and got some lunch. When they pulled up to her house, Peter and Derek were chasing each other around the woods behind the house. “I’m so glad for this time with you. You keep me sane.”

“I’m glad you’re letting me.” He kissed her softly and let her out of the truck. He didn’t come to the house when he smelled like Lydia. He came by some evenings and wrestled with Derek or threw around the baseball with him. During those visits, Jordan kept his attention on the wolf, and away from the banshee while he was there, so Derek wouldn’t feel threatened.

“You’re doing reserves this weekend, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be back on Tuesday.”

“Okay, have fun.”

“I’ll try.”

Lydia went in and showered, changing her clothes and putting her dirty ones in the wash before Derek and Peter came back in.

“Sorry I have to leave you so little time alone,” Peter said, panting as he led a very tired, but happy Derek behind him. “Two relatively new bites make it harder to wrangle a feral pack mate...apparently.”

“I understand.”

“You’ll have plenty of time for your dream-date. I wore him out.”

"Dream date" was what Peter called Derek’s sleepwalking activity with Lydia. He went through normal routines when sleepwalking, and even held up small conversations. If he was talking about a subject he liked, he would be more coherent than just muttering nonsense replies.

Lydia made Derek wash his hands before sitting down for a snack. He was getting better about adopting human habits, but it was training, not true comprehension. He was still a sneaky wolf who teased Lydia and stole her food. She had the next four days to spend with him, and they would be mostly alone. Scott and Deaton were working at the vet’s office and going on out calls to vaccinate cattle. Stiles was staying at the shelter and overseeing the reconstruction of the barn.

Lydia did her yoga in front of the television while Derek made a pest of himself. She managed to get through her routine when she laid out a towel so he could do the exercises with her. She corrected his posture and ignored him showing off and preening for her until he gave up and lay in a heap beside her, poking lazily at her side in a sleepy attempt to distract her.

Lydia brought Derek to the bathroom and made him use the toilet and then she brushed his teeth. She had no idea what Peter had let him eat while they were outdoors. He let her strip his clothes off after she turned on the shower and waited for the water to warm up. She undressed and opened the shower door so he could streak in under the water. She yawned as she washed Derek’s thick, black hair and he rumbled happily. She was tired and moving more sluggishly instead of giving him his brisk, utilitarian scrub.

Eventually Lydia realized she was starting to space out and had just been rubbing Derek’s back and shoulders under the water. She sighed and moved around to his front, dodging his erection and focusing on the smears of mud that clung to his chest hair. She tolerated his hands in her hair; Derek like to think he shampooed her too but hated the smell of her hair products. She was surprised when he spoke.

“So warm in here, I fell asleep.” Derek’s voice had the dull one of his dream-state. “Couldn’t sleep through this, though.” He cupped her breasts in his hands and kissed her, full on the mouth. With a startled sound, Lydia gripped his forearms. He moved his hands down her curves to her bottom and lifted her up, effortlessly. He brought her legs around his hips and she locked her ankles, instinctively. She put her hand on his shoulders to try and keep her balance.

“Derek!” she squeaked. “Put me down.”

“I won’t drop you,” Derek said, pressing Lydia back against the tiled wall. She hissed at the sensation of cold against her back. His mouth went to her neck and throat, as she tried to coordinate her slippery limbs without braining herself on the floor, or the faucet. He was suckling her nipple when she finally felt balanced. “Want you so much,” he groaned and rubbed the tip of his erection against her intimately.

“Derek, stop.” Lydia spoke calmly. “I don’t want to do this here.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, and carefully put her down. “What’s wrong?” he asked as she turned off the water and started to walk away.

“Water’s not the best place for this,” she replied.

“No, I mean, you’re scared.” He followed her out of the shower and wrapped his towel around his waist. “Why are you afraid?”

“We’ve had those attacks at work. I get surprised and I remember that. It’s hard to explain.”

“Sounds like PTSD,” he said. “You can talk to me about it if you want, I mean, I _did_ major in psychology.” Lydia stopped and stared at him.

"I don't know if you've ever mentioned that to me.

“I haven’t slept well for a while. I think I’m starting to lose it a little. I’m unfocused and I keep losing my train of thought.” He put his hand to his temple. 

“Let’s take a nap,” She suggested.

Lydia allowed Derek to lead her to the bedroom and put on a nightgown. She dried her hair and put a hair wrap on it to keep her pillow dry and listened to him talk as he tucked in beside her. He mentioned a few theories he'd been working on for his thesis about PTSD in children who experienced the death of a parent. Lydia felt sad when she realized his motivation.

“I like talking to you when you’re like this,” she said, softly as she stroked one of his arms.

“I miss this when I’m…away.”

“Me too.” She turned around to look at Derek, but with the blackout curtains pulled, the room was quite dim. His lips found hers and he kissed her, softly.

“Miss you so much.” He kissed her more deeply and moved over her smoothly, nudging his knee between her thighs and settling his hips against hers. He continued to kiss and caress her, but she didn’t stop him or encourage him.

“Derek, I wish you knew who I am,” she said, softly. “I wish I knew how to bring you back.”

“I know, Lydia.”

The sound of her name from his lips made her pause. She thought about Peter’s subconscious mind, and how she could interact with his memories. They were the memories from what was present of his conscious mind during his feral years.

“Do you like it here?”

“Yes,” he groaned and buried his face in her neck. “I like it here.”

“Better than…the barn?”

“I couldn’t think there. Too much mountain ash.” He was starting to tremble, which usually indicated he was about to drop not a different mental state.

“Stay with me, Derek.” Lydia pulled his face up to hers and kissed him. “Please.”

Lydia ended up needing to fight off Feral Derek’s delighted advances when he ‘woke up’ kissing her. He whined mournfully and looked at the erection tenting his shorts and then pleadingly up at her where she stood, adjusting her nightgown and putting on a pair of drawstring shorts. She was so tired her hands were shaking, and she just dropped down to her knees and drew down the front of his shorts. His erection sprang free, and she grasped it tiredly, giving it a few slow pumps. Derek flopped back onto the mattress and pushed his hips up into her grasp.

Lydia paused to get a specimen container and returned quickly before Derek started to howl. She resentfully resumed pumping the organ as she wrapped the sterile bag around the tip. Without restraints, they found it easier to collect this way and it made less of a mess. Derek came like a fountain, and she dutifully held still for the post orgasm nuzzle he always needed. She added the nutrient preservative and sealed the bag, putting it in the fridge for tomorrow’s delivery. She went back to the bedroom and shoved the Werewolf’s arms and legs back onto his side of the bed before pulling the covers over her and falling asleep.

~

“You’re back!” Peter looked delighted to see Lydia in the charred remains of the Hale house. She hadn’t been there in over a month. “So, you’re a banshee. It’s official?”

“Yes.”

“And Kate’s dead?”

“How did you know?”

“I’m still present, even if he can’t hear me.”

“I think Derek has something like you in his head. How do I get to it?”

“You already have.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m a selfish creature, so I’d be happy if you just let my nephew have his way with you and wake up. He does have a bond, you know.”

“He keeps…reverting too quickly.” She was embarrassed. “I don’t have time, and I can’t just…let him. He might not remember, and then I’m stuck with a horny feral who knows I put out. I’ll never sleep again.”

“If it doesn’t work, you mean.”

“You and Derek are very different.” Lydia shivered and let Peter put his coat around her shoulders. “Isn’t there something you can do with the Alpha claws?”

“Maybe, but I’d probably need both you and Derek present. You’re the link. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Derek started going into this state after I awakened your powers.”

“How? He didn’t bite me.”

“No, but you share a bond, one that’s stronger now that you’ve got a foot in the supernatural.” He sat down beside her on the front steps of the house. “I want him back. I want it so much, but I’m afraid of how he’ll feel when he realizes what I did.”

“Laura.”

“I wasn’t...aware.”

“I know.”

“You’re afraid of the same thing.”

“Yes.”

“That he won’t forgive you for letting him have sex with you.” He sighed. “Derek’s always been so intense. You’re right, he may be angry that you made the sacrifice. He may judge you for letting an animal do it. I won’t lie.”

“Will he blame himself?”

“Probably not.”

“Let’s ask him.” She looked at Peter. “What do I tell you in order to get you to go into Derek’s head?”

“Just tell me what we talked about. I’ll understand.”

“Okay.”

~

Peter did understand what Lydia was talking about. She’d texted him the next morning and reassured him that the full moon went fairly well. Derek had been like a person and aware of who he was more than usual. Peter agreed to go over the following afternoon and joined them just after lunch. Lydia put on one of Derek’s shows and sat beside him on the couch. After fighting off his attempts to get her hand down his pants, he settled down and let his uncle put a hand on his shoulder.

“I want you both to relax as best you can. You’ll have less of a headache later if you’re not tense.” His voice was smooth and had some Alpha vibration in it.

“Brain scramble headache?”

“No, Darling. If you’re tense, you’ll stay tense and the muscles in the back of your neck will get stiff and you’ll get a tension headache or a migraine.”

“Oh.”

Lydia felt the nails sliding up along the back of her neck and then she was standing in the Hale house again. It wasn’t burned up; it was cluttered with shoes by the door, books and papers scattered on the kitchen table, and pillows and throw blankets folded or spread out on the couches and chairs.

“We’re both in his head, now.” Peter stood beside Lydia, the memory of him. “He’s with me, now. We just need to find Derek.”

“Where is he?”

“Probably upstairs in his bedroom.”

Lydia followed Peter until she found an open door. There was a Lakers pennate on the wall, but no posters of bands or players. The desk was tidy and had books on it. Derek stood with his back to her, looking out the window.

“Derek?”

“It’s like I was here yesterday,” he said. “I know it’s been years since they died, but this is how I remember it.”

“You were much neater than any teenager I knew.” Lydia stepped into the room and stood beside him. Out the window, she could see a grill with smoke coming out of it, and a wading pool filled with water. There were chairs around a fire pit and plates of food scattered around. There were no people, but it looks as if they could be there at any moment. “What day is it?”

“Labor Day,” he said, taking her hand. “Most of the family came back, but Laura and I couldn’t because we went to school in New York. “This is what it was probably like.”

“Do you want to come back?”

“I feel so alone.”

“You won’t be, if you let me bring you back.”

“I’m afraid.” He put his arms around her. “Things were so bad when I left. I don’t want to come back if I’m alone.”

“You’re not alone.”

“Okay.” He reached out and took her hand. “How do we get out of here?”

“Follow me.” Peter stood in the doorway of the bedroom. “I’ll lead you back.”

Peter was holding Lydia’s face in his hands and shouting at her. She tried to breathe but coughed wetly and saw blood spatter the Alpha’s face. She took in a breath and cough into her hands.

“You with me?” Peter’s voice was tense, and his face was lined with strain. She nodded and gasped her next few breaths until they came smoothly. She was alone on the couch.

“Where’s Derek?”

“He ran out of here. I think-I think he’s back.”

“What went wrong?” she struggled to her feet and fumbled for some paper towels. She mopped up her face, and found it was just a nosebleed. She went to the bathroom, feeling dizzy and unsteady. When she toppled forward, Peter lifted her up into his arms and carried her to the bathroom. He set her down on the edge of the bathtub and ran a cloth under warm water. She let him clean her up before he went to the bedroom and came back with a clean shirt.

“Up,” he said, tugging her blouse up and she obediently lifted her arms. He got her into a clean shirt and dabbed at a few spots. “Nothing went wrong,” he said. “I don’t think so, anyway.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I remember.”

“Peter-”

“It’s alright, Lydia. You did everything right. I need to go find him, and I need to call Christopher and Stiles…and probably Deaton.”

Stiles came over and Peter waited for him to arrive before he ran out the back door, shedding his jacket on the ground. Stiles let Lydia fall asleep on his shoulder and she dozed dreamlessly. When she woke up, Melissa McCall was in her kitchen.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Tired,” Lydia croaked.

“Let me get you some tea.” Tea was made, tea was drunk, and eventually Scott’s mother broke the silence. “Peter said Derek’s upset. I know that’s probably fairly obvious, but he said he can feel him through the pack bond. He’s got the pack spread out, but we’re keeping out distance.”

“Distance?”

“I think he needs to come to terms with what happened.”

“Okay.” Lydia had a headache and remembered Peter’s warning. She took a few pain relievers and drank a glass of water. She went back to lie down on her bed and shut her eyes. It was late when she woke. The shades were open, but the house was dark.

“There’s a woman sleeping on the couch,” Derek said from the doorway. Lydia could only see his silhouette, but she sat up.

“It’s probably Melissa McCall.” Lydia got up and tiptoed past Derek. She picked up a blanket and laid it over the nurse. “Did you see anyone out there?”

“My uncle knows where I am.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Do you want to sleep?”

“Where’s your guest room?”

Lydia wordlessly led him down to the unused guest room. Jackson used to stay in there, but he hadn’t in months. Derek thanked her and closed the door. He was back. Most of him, anyway, but he’d seemed so empty. In his place, though, she didn’t know how she’d feel


	2. Memory resurected

Peter paced his apartment, restlessly. He held himself together because the full moon had only just waned, and John was still a bit prickly. He’d be a strong wolf, those who felt the moon’s pull outside of the night it was fullest always had a stronger reserve of power. Twenty years earlier, and John could’ve given younger Peter a run for his money. He’d bet his left nut that the Stilinski family had a little wolf blood clouding the gene pool. He pushed through the disgust and rage boiling under his skin and focused on the pack. _His_ pack.

“Peter?” Chris was already walking into the apartment and letting the door swing shut behind him. “Derek’s back at Lydia’s. Are you alright?”

“I remember,” he said, and let the older man squeeze his shoulders tightly. “I wish I didn’t. If I’d known, I’d have left Derek’s memory in the past.”

“Laura?”

“I can taste her blood.” Peter pushed past his friend and ran to the bathroom. He vomited into the toilet. When he returned to the kitchen, Chris was waiting.

“What about the rest of the six years?”

“Mostly boring. A lot of blue balls. Spending at least six hours a day wanting to fuck the kid. Getting tied up and jerked off by him. It’s humiliating to remember that I _lived_ for it.”

“Can you take them back from Derek?”

“I’ll do it if he’ll let me. I’ll do it in a second.”

“Let me talk to Satomi. She might have something that can help.”

Peter was surprised that most of his pack came to him. Scott was the first through his door, and practically threw himself at his Alpha. Peter caught the young wolf mid-air and clutched him close as if they were brothers. Scott was something special, and his wolf must’ve sensed it on some level before he bit him.

“I’m here,” he said, and opened himself up to his Alpha’s pain. Peter was so grateful to feel the ache in his chest ease, just the little bit that he let Scott take. Scott hadn’t shut the door behind him, and then Malia’s arms were around them both.

“Got you,” she said, and opened up. She was a Hale and sadly, they were bred for pain. She lifted a portion and he felt his breath come easier. “More on the way.”

Erica had Boyd with her, and she joined the hug, with Boyd’s arms around her waist. Everyone laughed at the confused Were trying to help. Erica lifted of some of the burden and John Stilinski showed up with Stiles and Isaac to take another chunk.

“We gotcha, Boss.” Erica kissed his cheek and then Boyd rumbled, letting Peter pull him close. There was a shallow bond between them, but he wouldn’t use Boyd to hold his pain.

“How’s Derek?”

“Rough,” Peter said. “He wouldn’t come here, and he doesn’t want me to help him right now.”

“Why not?” Erica asked. “I know I’ve been out of it.”

“When I was first exposed to the feral toxin, my niece tried to help me. I was completely mad, no sense of who I was, just rage. And I killed her. She was my Alpha. I stole the power from her.”

“You had no idea who you were,” Erica said.

“I know, but it’s still pretty terrible to remember.” He felt all of their hands on him, maintaining contact just so he could feel their touch. They didn’t need to be in contact in order to support him through the bonds, they were all just very tactile creatures. “Derek needs this too, but he doesn’t trust me.” He saw John shake his head, sadly. “Chris is going to see someone who might be able to help. He might just need some time.”

Peter ordered pizza and the pack stayed until late. He’d been so concerned about making sure they had what they needed from him, so many new wolves, that he had forgotten they could strengthen him as well.

“Where’s Kira?”

“She’s in Los Angeles with her parents,” Scott said. “She’ll be back in a few days. She sends her love.” The statement was so innocent, Peter thought she’d probably said just that _Send everyone my love_ , but she meant it so purely, that Peter was moved.

“She’d have made a great wolf,” he mused.

“Can’t be a fox and a wolf,” Malia said, rolling her eyes. “She’s perfect as she is.”

“We can’t solve all the world’s problems tonight,” John said. “Let’s all be bloated and sleepy, then tackle the worst tomorrow.” He ruffled Stiles’s hair. “You coming?”

“Nah, I’ll stay.”

“Can you give me a ride?” Isaac asked. John brought the other Omega with him as he left. The rest of the group said their goodbyes and left, with Malia eventually going off to the bedroom she’d claimed.

“I’m crashing.”

“Do you want me to go?” Stiles asked.

“Never.”

Stiles led Peter into the master suite and shut the door. He carefully and efficiently undressed the older man and steered him into the shower stall with steaming water pouring down. Peter let the water run down on his aching head and neck, and let the Omega climb in behind him. With magic fingers, the young man eased the tension from his neck and shoulders. His touch comforted him, and supported him, without a hint of flirtation or arousal.

“Time to dry off.” Stiles let Peter dry himself off and get dressed, but he helped himself to a pair of the wolf’s boxers. He slipped into the bed and held out his arms, making grabby hands. “Come and be soothed by the magical Omega pheromones.” Peter slid in and let the younger man hold him.

In the morning, Peter woke to the smell of cinnamon and butter. He stumbled out of his bedroom to see a shirtless Stiles taking a pan out of the oven.

“Quick, get the coffee,” Malia said from the couch.

“My hands are full, you get it.”

Malia had a hot cup ready for him when he reached the breakfast bar.

“Morning,” he said, sipping at the drink. “Where did this come from?” he nodded at the sticky buns that Stiles was plating. The gooey, pecan and brown sugar topping was still bubbling when the pan was flipped upside down. The warm, yeasty smell wafted up.

“I made them from scratch,” the Omega said. “I’m an early riser, and I have to go to Deaton’s in a bit.” He shrugged. “It’s a consolation prize because I must deprive you of my company for a bit.”

“A bit?” Malia snatched one of the rolls and headed for her room. The remaining energy felt heavy. “Are you traveling?”

“After getting back your memories, I thought you might need some space from me.” He sucked some sugar off his thumb. “I’m here if you need me, but sometimes things have to be processed.”

“I think that’s wise.” Peter knew Stiles was hurt, but he nodded and pointed to the bedroom and walked out of the kitchen, presumably to get dressed. He felt terrible, considering how accommodating Stiles had been, especially considering his early treatment of him. He’d pushed himself into Stiles’s life and put more pressure on him because of his own need for the Omega. Now he needed to push him away, and Stiles understood. He’d suggested it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. When he emerged from the bedroom, fully dressed, he gave a quick wave and was out the door.

Peter felt awful, but it was better than throwing the boy down and slaking his overwhelming sexual frustration on the frail, gangly body. With the memories came both the comfort of the bond his feral wolf had with Stiles, and the near-constant preoccupation with wanting to throw him over the nearest flat surface and rail the tight little ass. Having to be satisfied with the weekly and sometimes bi-weekly hand jobs was humiliating enough, but to long for every touch from grooming to supervised play.

The memory of how lonely he’d been made Peter resentful of Stiles, for doling out small doses of affection when the wolf had needed constant attention. Part of him hated the human, even knowing that his situation wasn’t the Omega’s fault. He needed perspective; he couldn’t help Derek until he got himself under control. He called Chris.

“How are you?”

“I sent him away,” Peter said, harshly. “He was so wonderful and took care of me. I was reeling from shock, and whole pack came to try and help. When I woke up, it was like an inferno. I remembered all of my anger and frustration from being caged. The deep loneliness from my inability to connect to anyone. The small bond I formed with him was starved and pitiful, but it was all I had. I nurtured it and needed him so much. Eventually I spent all my time thinking about him with the animal’s mind. I wanted him every second, under my teeth, under my hands. I wanted to be knotted in him all day. He’s so lucky I took to the training. He’s so damned lucky I valued future contact more than a few minutes of satisfaction.”

“Peter,” Chris breathed.

“He came so close, so many times. I’d have hurt him so much.”

“You can’t think like that, Peter. And he’s not as helpless as you’d think. He studied your behavior, and he did have some close calls, but even when he was helpless, he knew how to handle you.”

“He killed to protect us. He’d never done that before.”

“I know.”

“All I can think about is getting him under me.”

“I know.”

“I need to get Derek away from Lydia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short, I need to get a little ahead before I post more.


	3. Rebound

Lydia had asked Jordan to avoid the house for a few days. She told him that Derek got his memories back, but that he suffered some trauma. Jordan told her it was great news, and just to let him know when she needed him. She got out of her bed and went to the shower, she hadn’t slept well again, and it was probably why she didn’t hear the bathroom door open. Standing directly under the water was probably why she didn’t notice the shower door opening, either.

The crash of a body hitting the wall spun Lydia around with a scream. Derek was up against the tile, held in place by a hand around his throat. Derek’s fangs and claws were out, and he snarled savagely at Peter who stood, fully clothed, in Lydia’s shower. His eyes burned red and he roared loudly enough that Lydia crouched against the far wall with her hand over her ringing ears. Derek still struggled with Peter until the Alpha roared louder and longer until Derek shifted back and dropped his head, trembling and cowering in his uncle’s grasp.

“Stay down,” Peter said. Lydia didn’t realize she’d tried to crawl away, but she stopped all movement. Derek snapped at her weakly before whining when his uncle snarled again. “Don’t move, keep your face turned to the wall. Your boyfriend is coming.” He turned around. “Jordan, use the door, she’s okay!” he shouted. “No need for flames, it’s under-shit. Okay.”

Lydia smelled Jordan before she heard or saw him. Her ears were still ringing from Peter’s roar. The doorway was filled with Jordan’s mostly naked, blackened, and still flickering body, orange eyes glowing like embers. He saw the two men in Lydia's shower where they stood over her huddled, naked form.

“I’m okay,” she whispered. The flamed flickered out, but his body appeared to have cracks where orange light seemed to emanate from within.

“Get her out of here,” Peter said. “Take her to Chris Argent’s house. He's expecting her. His place is a fortress, he and Stiles can ward it against us.”

“Can you hold him?”

“This pup?” Peter smirked. “Yes. But I want to help him, not kill him. It’s best if she’s safe before I do anything.”

“Understood.” Steam and smoke rose as he stepped into the shower. Lydia reached for him, hesitant until she touched his hand and it felt only warm to her touch. She stood and let him lead her out, thoughtfully snagging a few towels and her robe. She took her phone, purse, and shoved clothes into a bag before going to the door. Jordan looked sheepish standing naked in her kitchen and trying to wipe off the soot. “Sorry about your carpet.”

“Forget it,” she whispered, not looking back.

Jordan was unfazed driving to Chris Argent’s house with a towel wrapped around his waist and Lydia buckled in beside him wearing a robe. Stiles was pulling in the driveway just as they rounded the curve nearby. He was out of his jeep and opening the passenger door just as Jordan put it in park.

“Wow. Burning man, must’ve been bad.”

“Take her in, I’ll be back over when I’m…presentable.” He gave Lydia a nod and backed out as Stiles got an arm around her and he saw Chris Argent coming down the front steps to meet them. She was bundled into Allison’s room and Stiles ran the shower hot for her.

“I already showered,” she said, with chattering teeth.

“You’re freezing, and you’re a bit…smudged.” Stiles nodded to the mirror and Lydia caught sight of herself and saw the sooty black streaks that covered her, her robe, and her hair. “Okay, Jordan? He’s reliable, but messy.”

“Oh, I think he might've scorched my carpets.”

“Derek didn’t shit in there yet?”

“Not on the carpet.” They looked at each other and laughed. Her was a little strained, but she let her friend hug her. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Take your time.”

Lydia scrubbed herself and used some of Allison’s shampoo and her shower gel, feeling a little calmer when she recognized the herbal, green tea fragrance. It felt familiar, and protective, like her friend. She dried her hair and applied a little moisturizer before looking around and frowning. She opened the door where Stiles was trying not to look like he was lurking.

“Stiles?”

“Um, I just want you to know, that various scenarios like this ran through my mind in high school. But I’m over it.”

“I just need my bag.” She sat on Allison's bed and on a whim, put on her friend’s slippers and took a photo of her feet with Allison's desk and vanity in the background. _Moving in. I hope you don’t mind a refugee,_ she typed, and then sent the photo to her friend. Once she was dressed, Lydia felt a little less vulnerable. She went downstairs where Jordan had managed to shower, change and return.

“I cleaned up your car seat,” he said.

“I wouldn’t have complained.” She accepted a hug from him. “How close by were you? Did you hear Peter?”

“I heard you, in a way.” He glanced up at Chris who nodded like he knew what Jordan was talking about. “I wasn’t consciously aware of it, and you didn’t scream, but the hound could… _hear_ the water running in your shower. It knew something was wrong. I was running out the door before I knew what was happening.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“If Peter hadn’t been there, I don’t know if I’d have made it in time.” He looked troubled. “What happened? You said he got his memory back.”

“Yes, he asked to stay in my guest room, that was the last time I spoke to him.”

“Peter had a slightly delayed reaction to the return of his memories.” Chris looked sad, as usual. “He said he felt a sudden rush of resentment and other feelings. A buildup of six years of everything his conscious mind could understand. He had to distance himself from Stiles because of it.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, coming down the stairs. “I got that impression.”

“Why didn’t feral Derek hate me?”

“He wasn’t smart enough,” Stiles said, and Lydia understood.

“God, it must’ve been terrible for him to be so emotionally neglected compared to what he was used to.”

“You had to be safe, and you had to be careful. You also did the best you could with the information you had.” Jordan rubbed her arm.

“Yes. Peter’s had time to adjust to the knowledge of what happened without the memory. He’s even got a pack to help him, but he still had trouble. It’s good that he did, because he knew you’d be in danger.”

“I didn’t see it coming,” Lydia said. “Why didn’t the banshee know? It’s supposed to know when someone's going to die. Presumably it works for me too.” She caught Chris’s eye, but the hunter dropped his gaze with a hint of embarrassment. “Oh.”

“What?” Jordan asked.

“Killing might not have been at the top of Derek’s list.” Stiles said, rubbing his mouth. “Her… _death_ probably wasn’t imminent.”

“Can I get you a drink?” Chris asked.

“Yes.”

~

The water in Lydia’s shower had run cold before Peter could let go of Derek long enough to turn it off. His nephew sank to the floor in a heap. He paced on the wet floor, boots and jeans soaked, and looked down at the naked man who trembled with anger and other nasty things.

“You woke up with it,” he said. “I did too. It hurts. It burns in your gut. I felt like someone set me on fire. Again.”

“I hate her,” Derek gasped, curling around himself, “so much.”

“I know.”

“But I can’t-” All the muscles in his body were locked in a fetal position. “I feel like I can’t… live without her.”

“I know how much it hurts. It feels like betrayal. You weren’t mentally capable of doing anything except bonding with her for survival. You _had_ to love her, you associated _her_ with desire and release because she was the only available option.” Peter helped him stand. “How much do you remember of your feral time?”

“It’s bits and pieces at first. I think I was completely absent for months, and then it’s like part of my mind was able to observe. Just a little at first, and then more.”

“Same here.”

“Laura.” Derek looked at Peter. “How did she die?”

“Trying to save me,” Peter said. “Kate Argent didn’t capture me. I told Laura to run after you’d been shot. I was carrying you and she shot me with wolfsbane. It weakened me, probably the same one she shot you with. I threw you in a cave and led her away from you, but she shot me again with the toxin. I don’t remember anything except the rage.”

“You-you killed her.”

“Chris Argent was with her. They were tracking me, but I was too far gone. He said Laura was trying to subdue me, hold me still in order to sedate me. Chris said she refused to hurt me. Eventually, it was too much. I remember the moment the alpha spark passed to me, it’s just a tangle of rage, but I remember her. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t aware of what I was doing.”

“I know.” Derek took a towel. “What happened to Cora?”

“Chris smuggled her out of the country. She was in South America, and she’s been in contact with the trust attorneys, but I haven’t reached her yet.”

“What do we do now?”

“I’ve got a pack.”

“You bit them,” Derek said, drying off and then walking tiredly to the guest room where he had a few t-shirts and pairs of shorts. “Apparently I don’t like underwear.”

“We can get you a new wardrobe. And we can get your identity back.” He leaned in the doorway as his nephew slowly got dressed. “I understand if you don’t want to be around me, but like I said, I have a pack, and you can be in it. If you’d rather be elsewhere, I can talk to Satomi-”

“I fucked Kate Argent,” Derek said. “She was responsible for the fire. I had an affair with her Senior year, and then over the summer. I told her about the Labor Day picnic.” He leaned on the windowsill in the guest room. “It’s my fault. And when she was holding me prisoner; in the tunnels, and other places, she trained me to respond to her and I fucked her there too. When I was obedient, I'd get a reward…”

“She was sick. But she’s dead now.” He saw Derek’s head snap up. “I got into her head. I saw why she did it, and there was nothing you could’ve done to avoid it. She was stalking the family, and she would’ve known about the picnic anyway.”

“What about her father?”

“He’s dead, too. It happened inside the tunnel, but we staged an accident so people wouldn’t come looking for them.”

“Is it still there?”

“I blew it up and buried it. The house was already bulldozed, and the place covered, the tunnels were all that was left. It’s a long story, but I needed to close the circle. It was my last job as Talia and Laura’s left hand.” He went to Derek and squeezed his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have known if you didn’t keep searching. You found the arsonists, you found that teacher, you even found out it was her before you were shot.”

“If I hadn’t been so focused-”

“You’d probably be dead by now.”

“Better me than Laura.”

“She was the Alpha. It was her job to put her pack before herself. We all did the best we could, but none of us could see this coming.”

“I don’t know if I can move on.”

“Why not?” Peter watched Derek go to the neatly made guest bed and sat down. He hung his head and his shoulders drooped.

“Laura’s dead, Cora might or might not be dead, and I’ve spent the last six years in various circles of Hell. Now I’m out in the open and it’s like being transported into the future with a world full of strangers. I don’t know anyone; I don’t even feel like I can function as a man. If I saw Lydia right now, I’d probably try to hurt her.”

“Do you want me to take it away?” Peter asked. “When I first came back, I remembered nothing of the last six years. My memories were still locked away. It was only when Lydia and I went into your head yesterday that they came back. I wish they hadn’t, but I’m stuck with them.”

“Why?”

“I’ve come to care for Stiles. I had a Pavlovian response to him, but otherwise he was a stranger who helped me. I resented him, but I understood that he didn’t know what was happening and didn’t even know we were intelligent. He was the key to bringing me out, he…did a lot to try and protect me, even when I was an ass. He risked his life to save me, and even found the courage to trust me. I was… _better_ because of him. Then I got back my memories, and I woke up as a ball of rage, mating instinct, humiliation and resentment. I had to push him away and probably only managed it because I’d formed a real bond with him in the past months, and what I remembered hasn't helped me at all.”

“It feels like cowardice. I don't like my trauma so I want to erase it?”

“It’s not like we can go talk to a shrink and get therapy. Do you _need_ all of the memories? You know what’s happened. You can write yourself a letter with the pertinent info, and then I can take away the rest.”

“I don’t want to go back to…trusting her.”

“That’s your pride talking. Lydia deserves your trust. She’s probably the best equipped to help you work through a lot of this stuff. Ask her for help.”

“Who was the human torch?”

“Right. About that.”

~

Lydia needed to focus her nervous energy, and she chose to cook. Chris’s kitchen was beautifully equipped, and she remembered the meals Victoria used to cook there. She took out some ingredients with Chris’s blessing to make a big brunch and sent Jordan to the store for a few things. Stiles and Chris went up to his office and left her with a jar of mountain ash. She took out her phone to stream some music and saw that she had a reply from Allison. She smiled as she opened it.

 _From@llison: Great, are you fucking my dad too?_ Lydia was a little shocked. She knew Allison and Chris had been under intense stress handling business and their withdrawal from the hunting community, but this was a bit of a shock. She didn’t respond, it was too much to handle right now to pick a fight with her friend. Stiles hadn't mentioned it to her, but she was guessing Allison talked with him or at least her dad. Jordan returned and she let him hold her, comforted by his presence, and his solid strength. There was something that felt so right about being close to him. She knew they were bonded through their supernatural connection, and involuntary or not, it was easy to slide into the connection.

“What are you making?”

“I think a nice spread that people can pick at, along with something French and fatty.” She smiled as Jordan made himself useful by making a pitcher of mimosas. “Is there anything on my list that you won’t eat?”

“You can throw pretty much anything at my open mouth.”

“Hopefully you still have taste.”

“I haven’t been disappointed by your cooking yet.”

Lydia set to work putting together a charcuterie board while she clarified some butter. She covered the board and put it in the nearly empty refrigerator before whipping up a lemony hollandaise sauce with the clarified butter to serve with poached salmon in dill butter. She made some plain crepes and a sweetened cream cheese with fresh sliced fruit. She felt better when she was effective. All of the time off was starting to take its toll, as well as the Derek-imposed isolation that had begun the night of the second break-in.

~

Chris and Stiles went upstairs to his office and closed the door.

“What happened with Peter?”

“He said he was fine last night, but he had a delayed reaction to getting his memories back.” Chris sat in his desk chair and sighed. “His conscious mind only picked up little bits and pieces, and it was unable to control what the feral wolf was doing. It would have been incredibly frustrating to be trapped inside his body. Able to occasionally see, hear, and smell, but helpless to act.”

“I can understand that.”

“Logically, he knows why he was isolated, and why you handled him that way. He understands why you had to be cautious with him, you had to be safe. But his wolf was starving. It needed a pack and had no way to form bonds with the other Alphas there. It’s like Stockholm Syndrome. The wolf had no choice but to love you, and bond with you, but his conscious mind saw how you left him yearning for so much more. Resentment grew, along with unrequited lust. It desired you, you were its sole focus and object of obsession. He was conditioned to know that any attempt to touch you resulted in less contact, so he behaved, but inside his human mind seethed with frustration.”

“He wanted to hurt me.”

“Yes.”

“That’s what happened with Derek?”

“Yes. But he didn’t have the opportunity to get to know Lydia outside of sleepwalking before regaining his memory, so it was like a prisoner being set free after years of being behind bars and seeing the object of his torment standing naked in the shower.”

“Jesus.”

“Peter said his primary urge was to mate-bond you. That might’ve been the same with Derek; to secure the connection he longed for.”

“I’m glad Peter and Jordan realized there would be trouble.”

“I don’t know how Peter’s going to handle it, or what state Derek will be in. He was with Kate for years before coming to the shelter.” Chris looked at Stiles who was staring at a spot on the carpet. “Are you okay?”

“Relatively speaking, sure. Your father and sister tried to kill you, and your father was murdered in front of you. Lydia’s had two werewolves in her care, one whom she raised herself, and both blindsided her with resentment and anger. She was bitten by Peter, died, came back, and became a banshee. My father and Scott were both recently bitten and have transformed into Werewolves. Isaac…Jesus. Isaac. He’s been through so much. Deaton nearly lost his farm, got jumped by thugs and survived several attempts on his life. Malia and Kira lost their pack and identities for a while. I’m…I had a concussion.”

“You’ve been through so many stressful situations in the past few months.” He stood up and walked to Stiles, pulling him into his arms in a hug. “You’ve handled them better than anyone could have expected. You’re smart, strong, and you walked into danger to save people you care for. You’ve done so much, and you’ve gotten so little in return.”

“I got a pretty swanky apartment,” he mumbled against the hunter’s chest. It felt good to be comforted like this. He wished his dad wasn’t working, but Beacon Hills needed their sheriff. “I should call Isaac.” He stepped back, feeling a flush to his cheeks and sniffled, blinking away a little bit of moisture.

“How’s he taking things?”

“Not sure. I think he’s trying to find his way. He’s caught between the family he used to know, and the world he woke up to. He’s trying to establish a new identity, literally and figuratively. As an independent man who needs to learn to look after himself, as an Omega, and with a new pack.”

“I feel like I don’t know how to act around him,” Chris said, “he used to be Allison’s pet, and I’m afraid to reach out to him, because if I get close, he might meet her, and she’ll remember something.” He met Stiles’s gaze and saw the Omega smiling, slightly. “What?”

“Nothing, I’m just glad we had this conversation.”

“Did I remind you of all the horrible things that happened to you?”

“You gave me perspective on counting blessings.” He sighed. “I’m going to give both you and Peter some space. You and Allison need to be copacetic. She’s your only family, and you need each other. I’ll be here for both of you, either way.”

“After what she said…”

“I still love her, and so do you.” Stiles leaned up and kissed Chris on the lips. “It’s hard to put yourself in her shoes, but if I found out Lydia was sleeping with my dad behind my back, I’d be hurt and upset. I’d feel betrayed. If it was Scott sleeping with my dad, I’d be devastated. Also extremely surprised.”

“I tried to tell her everything. I _did_ tell her most of it, in fact, and she seemed to accept me being a Werewolf. When all of that was laid in front of her, she didn't care about you and me. She was lying when she said she wouldn't tell anyone. Maybe she was going to talk to you, maybe she was going to talk to another matriarch, but Peter couldn't take the chance."

"You didn't remove all the information?"

"She'd already guessed about us, I didn't have anything to do with that. I thought it would be okay. But without a much bigger issue, I guess it seemed more significant."

“At least you were already sitting down with her to talk about it when she said something.”

“I wasn’t.” He winced. “At least not right away. I felt like things had already ended between us, and I’m still involved with the company for now, so there wasn’t much point in bringing on the censure and judgement if I couldn’t enjoy the benefits of you in my life.” There was no self-pity in his tone. “I’m surprised your father hasn’t had a little chat with me.”

“He’s been busy.” Chris laughed and Stiles smiled. “I used to spend my days handling feral Peter Hale, I think my sex life is the least of his concerns. By the way, from a wolf’s perspective, how’s he taking the change. We haven’t been able to spend as much time one-on-one.”

“Peter said your father’s taking the change extremely well, but he didn’t share the specifics.”

“I think I smell something tasty, want to go eat?”

"Yeah."

"I think I'm gonna need to meditate for a few days. Just to get my head together."

~

Satomi was far older than she looked, Derek knew. He’d known her when she’d been a friend of his grandmother’s, and then a friend of his mother’s. The time following the fire was mostly a blur, but he knew Satomi had helped Peter and Cora hide until Laura and Derek had met up with them. When she showed up on Lydia’s doorstep, he felt an odd calm wash over him.

“Hello, Derek Hale.” She didn’t smile, but he got the impression there was a soft one behind her eyes. “You’ve grown into a man.”

“Barely,” he said, and stepped aside to let her in.

Peter sat across from her as she spoke to them, her soft voice carrying generations of knowledge with each syllable.

“When did you wake?”

“Two days ago, but apparently I was somewhat coherently present when I was in a sleepwalking state.”

“And you?” Dark eyes turned to Peter.

“I woke around Christmas with no memory of the last six years. I knew who I was, I was completely coherent, but I only got my memories back when Derek did.”

“Were your memories clear?”

“No. I remember only rage at first, and my sense of time was messed up. I eventually developed my conscious mind as a passenger in the feral wolf’s body. I had no control or influence, I could only watch when the animal was focused at first, later on it just took effort. My memories are scattered observations, and I think months would go by without me noticing anything.”

“You too?”

“Yeah,” Derek nodded. “Neither of us was exposed to a potential cure that Deaton thinks he might’ve found. Our memories were both brought back due to a connection with a banshee.” He let his uncle explain about Lydia, the bite, and Duke’s influence over Stiles; he could smell the same coming off the man when he mentioned the Omega human.

“You’re bothered now by these memories?”

“Even with the logical understanding of why the feelings are there, I’m helpless to process them. It’s not Stiles’s fault that this happened, if anything, I’m grateful that he took me on when I was so volatile. Logically, anyway.”

“And you feel the same way?” She turned to Derek who hunched and ducked his head a little. “Derek?”

“Peter had a few moths to get to know Stiles as a person. I woke up and she was in the shower, and I lost control.”

“How do you feel about Lydia?”

“Every emotion dialed up to eleven. Hate, love, resentment, fear of abandonment, infatuation…” he trailed off, “it’s so loud inside my head. I feel like I’ll never be able to interact with anyone.”

“I’m keeping him in check, but it was difficult to subdue him this morning. We aren’t as closely bonded as we once were.”

“I cannot take these memories from you,” Satomi said, folding her hands in her lap. “but, I can show you how to lock them away.” She flicked out her claws. “Peter has the right idea, but removing them completely will eventually hurt you because you won;t understand how your wolf is conditioned for certain behaviors. Drawing the curtain means the memory is there, but it's not tied to emotion."

"Do it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Open-ended, but this is intended to indicate that their fragile peace couldn't last without some kind of cost.

**Author's Note:**

> The warnings are for the violent thoughts and mention of Kate Argent's previous actions. I did not mark them as underage because in this universe, Derek was eighteen when they met.


End file.
